Devil's Soul
by zynaofthenight
Summary: "Quite a bit was the truth, if you really want to know. The best lies are based on the truth, at least in part."


"_Quite a bit was the truth, if you really want to know. The best lies are based on the truth, at least in part."_

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**[A/N]: **My version of what really happened to Nate. We all know Nate is a traitorous, lying _thing_ that should die, but still, he deserves a chance…maybe…?

zynaofthenight does not own _The Infernal Devices_. Cassandra Clare does, though. :D

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**-Devil's Soul-**

_By: zynaofthenight_

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"Look at yourself, Nathaniel Gray. Deeply in debt, penniless…What have you become?"

Mortmain's eyes held a spark of amusement, but it wasn't the happy kind of amusement. The glint in his eyes was more akin to the amusement of one who knows he has everything under his grasp, and that his victims have no chances of escaping.

The young man in question hung his head in shame, his cheeks burning, "I-I…"

"Save your explanation." Mortmain cut him off with a wave of a hand. "All these days, gambling, drinking, falling into depths of despair and ruin…tsk." His tone, though, conveyed that he was most certainly enjoying himself.

"What can I do, sir?" Nate's whisper was barely audible, sounding reluctant but resigned.

"What are you willing to give to pay off your debts?"

A short pause, then Nate raised his head slowly, surrender visible in his entire posture. "Anything."

Mortmain gave a feral smile, the smile of a predator who has cornered his prey. "What about your sister?"

"My…my sister?"

"Yes, your sister."

"What could you possibly want with her?"

"I have reason…to know that one of your mother's children is…special. I had thought it could be you, but having the leisure to observe you, the only thing unusual about you is…your foolishness." Mortmain nodded his head pleasantly, as if he had not just insulted the young man in front of him. "But your sister, your sister is something else again. She has all the power you do not. I have no intention of harming her. She is far too important."

"What do you mean?"

"You said that you would do anything, Nathaniel Gray. Do not disappoint me. Bring your sister to me, and I will let you go of your debts. Fail, and you shall die."

The young man trembled, his eyes dark and troubled. "I want to know why you want my sister."

Mortmain threw his head back and laughed. The sound was so unexpected, that Nate jumped up, startled.

"My dear boy! Are you sure you want to know?"

"Tell me, _please_." Nate's voice was pleading and confused, and his eyes shone with fear. "Tell me. What does my sister have to do with anything?"

"Everything. You know the creatures that haunt the Pandemonium Club, Nathaniel Gray. You've heard of the warlocks, yes?"

The young nodded mutely.

"Then you should know, my dear boy, that your sister, Theresa Gray, is a warlock. She is a shift-shaper. A Changer. She, in essence, is a monster."

"Tessie…" Nate's voice slipped out, breathless and terrified. "No, not Tessie."

"Yes, I'm afraid." Mortmain's words held no sympathy, no compassion. "Bring her to me, and you will be my right hand man when I rule the British Empire. I have a mechanical army, Nathaniel Gray. With your sister's help, I can defeat the Enclave, the Shadowhunters—the entire race of Nephilim."

"What?"

"The Nephilim, my boy. They are the part angels, the _blessed_ ones. They control the Downworlders."

"Downworlders?"

"All the creatures in the Pandemonium Club…they are Downworlders. The supernatural ones. The Shadowhunters are just _superior_ beings, at least, in their opinion."

"And Tessie?"

"Downworlder, of course. Do you want your sister to be overtaken by those cruel, cold-hearted Shadowhunters?"

"No, of course not—"

"Then bring her for me. And when we defeat all the Shadowhunters, you will rule with me, as I am the head of the British Empire. All I ask for is your sister, Nathaniel Gray."

"And pay all my debts?"

Mortmain grinned, his eyes sparkling deviously. "When you are ruling the Empire, you are free to forfeit all your debts, is that not true?"

There was a long silence, then Nathaniel Gray knelt down in front of Mortmain, to sell his soul to the devil.

"Your wish is my command."

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**[A/N]: **Really short oneshot, but I just _had _to write something on Nate after reading _Clockwork Angel_. Reviews are appreciated.

I know. Nate's too gullible, isn't he? I made him believe everything too fast. *pouts*

Ah, review anyway?


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